


Yes, Professor

by seethesunshine



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1920420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seethesunshine/pseuds/seethesunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OFC/Prof!Richard two piece. Student is of legal age. NFSW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Summers in New York City are unexplainable. Why, you ask? _Because._ Well, because isn’t an answer, didn’t you know that? _Because,_ the sun is hot, the parties never end, the beach is just a few subway stops away, and haven’t you heard…school is out for summer. Well, usually it is, but not for Lexy. Poor little Lexy, stuck in summer classes at Columbia., trying to get the last few credits for that horrid double English major she foolishly picked.

 _At least the professor is hot,_ she sighed, dangling a black sandal from her fire engine red toe nails. With her chin in her palm, she let her gaze wander out of the large lecture room window, the sun shinning and the birds chirping. What she’d do to be one of the students lounging on the quad in the cool grass with a book in her hand. Clicking her tongue absentmindedly, she rolled her shoulders, the always tanned skin contrasting with the turquoise tank she threw on this morning. The slightly coarse material grazed her bare chest, her nipples hardening against the touch. She rolled her eyes as she remembered her late wake up, throwing on anything she could find and forgetting a key piece. 

“Miss Price,” his cool voice came across the room, drawing her out of last nights beach party, “Care to share what you’ve become so distracted by?” He asked, his thick British accent warming her down to the bone.

She shrugged, “Sorry professor,” she sighed, sitting back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. His gaze lingered on her, studying her face then slowly surveying the not so subtle peaks of her breast, the taught skin jutting out against the almost sheer material. She blushed suddenly, crossing her arms against her chest and catching his eye. His calm exterior didn’t crack under her flushed face, his being found out not alarming him in the least. 

Leaning over her books, Lexy doodled around the margins of the empty loose leaf. The only note she’d taken down within the last hour was the date and the name of the study. Why was she even taking a medieval romance course? Because it’s mandatory, she rolled her eyes, skimming the cover of the packet the professor handed out in the beginning of the lecture. Certainly Marie de France could keep her mind busy for the next few minutes, couldn’t she? _No_ , she sighed, watching him from the back of the class, dark jeans nearly painted on to his body, the muscles in his back flexing, pushing his button down to its limits as he erased the words he’d scribble on the board earlier. 

She wondered what he looked like without his shirt on, bare backed in low slung jeans and nothing else. The heat could be getting to her head, but even Lexy knew that would be a lie. She found him undeniably sexy from the first day of her summer courses, the more days that passed the dirtier had her thoughts been. He, however, didn’t seem to pay her any mind, unhappy with her constant late habit and even more unimpressed by her day dreaming. But, her marks were good and they both knew it; perhaps a little rusty in the poetry department, yet still better than most of the group. 

Shutting his lecture book, announcing dismissal, Lexy gathered her belongings, itching to get out of the stuffy building into the warm weather. She shook her head furiously, ridding her blonde head of the dirty thoughts she’d racked up of professor Armitage the last few days. Her black flip flops clacked beneath her as she began to trudge up the lecture room stairs, her short denim shorts clinging to her thighs. Taking the steps two at a time, she noticed the stillness of the room suddenly and knew she was the last one out.

“Miss Price,” his soft baritone voice came from behind her, “Can I have a word?”  
"Yes, Professor?" She forced a smile, turning on her heel and trudging back down the steps.  
"I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit…distracted, lately," he noted, leaning back on his desk, arms folded across his chest, "Is something troubling you?"  
 _The heat and your hot body,_ “No, sir, just a bit off, I guess,” she shrugged.  
"Your marks are fairing well, however you don’t seem too enthralled with medieval poetry," he continued, his blue eyes dark.  
"I, um," Lexy stalled, "I’m not crazy about it, no," she admitted, shuffling from foot to foot.  
He nodded, eyes unashamedly traveling her body, “You didn’t do too well on yesterday’s exam,” he sighed, handing her the poorly graded sheet, “If you don’t keep your marks you won’t graduate on time.”

Instinctively, she rolled her eyes, glancing through the quiz and noting how many she actually left blank. She knew these courses would either make or break her, either she could graduate on time or suffer another semester. Was it too late to drop out? _Obviously, you big dumby_ , she groaned. 

"At least it’s not an F?" She tried, laughing nervously.  
"Your mind is elsewhere, Lexy," he frowned, addressing her by her first name for what seemed like the first time, "What can we do to get you on track?"  
"I could think of a few things," she mumbled, unaware that it was just loud enough for him to hear.  
"Oh? Such as?" He asked, watching her closely.  
"Uhhh..hmm…" you’re dead, she thought quickly, "Extra help?"  
"There are no tutors for summer courses," he explained, slinging his bag over his shoulder, his red cardigan slung through it, and heading towards the exit.

She stood in her spot momentarily, glued to his retreating frame. This isn’t how it happens in the movies, she frowned, mentally kicking herself for even assuming he would be into that. She knew she wouldn’t make the rest of the course if she didn’t get some for of help. But, was she really proposition her professor? Is that how she really wants to graduate?

"Maybe you can help me," she croaked, running up the steps behind him and shutting the door before he could get out.  
"Miss Price," he started, shaking his head.  
Gripping the door knob, she realized how tall he was, “Please Professor,” she almost begged, “My parents would disown me if I didn’t graduate properly, I’ll literally do anything.”

She thought that, maybe for a second, she saw a spark in his blue eyes. His expression softened yet still stoic all at once. Could he actually want her to proposition him? Or did he just feel bad for the 20something trying to get her life together? He thought for a moment, licking his lips before he spoke.

"Miss Price," he began.  
"Lexy, please," she offered.  
"Lexy, I don’t tutor," he murmured, her eyes glued to his lips, "I’d love to help you but unfortunately…"  
"Please," she tried for captivating, "If you can help me, I’m sure I could help you," she whispered, pushing off the door and moving closer to him, her fingers grazing the tip of his loose tie.  
"Lexy," he warned.  
"I saw you today, you know," she casually mentioned, "I’m not wearing panties, either."

He cleared his throat, his arms at his sides as he watched the almost too pretty college girl try to seduce him. She’d never done it before, that much was obvious, but she played a good game and knew how to keep his attention. From the four inch gain he had on her, the lack of bra was even more evident. The low cut top hung away from her body, almost giving him a view he’d so desire. She shuffled, albeit a bit nervously, and tried to regain her stance.

"Miss Price," he smirked, "Are you propositioning me?"  
She shrugged, shaking her blonde waves about her shoulders, “I’m just asking for a helping hand,” she smiled, the knob turning beneath her fingers, “I think we’d both benefit from it.” 

She walked down the empty corridor, heading towards the exit with her head held high. She felt his presence behind her, close yet not alarming, as she turned a corner. Without a word, his fingers snaked her wrist, pulling her into a doorway and pressing her against the cool tiled wall. She felt her heart beating a mile a minute, his broad muscular frame pressing into her,  the tiles alarming against her flushed skin. The grip on her wrist was strong, the fire in his eyes burning and rendering her speechless.

"I hope you know what you’re getting yourself in to," he whispered, his breath hot on her ear, "I _will_ make you work.”  
"I’ve always liked a challenge," she bit back, pressing her hips against his.

He grinned, his free hand circling her hip and skimming the waistband of her shorts. Raising a brow, his fingers deftly worked the button and fly down, his index and middle finger gliding over her skin and cupping her mound. His eyes never left hers, not even when he dipped his fingers into her heat and sighed.

"Such a dirty girl," he murmured, his fingers sliding through her arousal, "tomorrow, my office at 4."  
She nodded, unable to catch her breath as he continued his torturous work, “yes, professor.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by In The Morning by J.Cole and Drake. Poem is 'Unfelt, Unheard, Unseen' by John Keats.

Sighing with annoyance,  Lexy slammed her text book shut. It was three in the afternoon the following day and her mind was racing. _Focus,_ she grimaced,  thumbing through the pages for the John Keats poem she was outlining. It dawned on her a few times that she wasn’t certain what she’d actually do with a degree in English once she actually graduated. _You can always teach,_ she thought, and made a gagging noise.

Begrudgingly, she headed towards Professor Armitage’s office. She had checked earlier to make sure he wasn’t lecturing that afternoon, allowing herself some much needed time to compose her thoughts. Did she really want to sleep with her professor for a better mark? She snorted, _no, I want to sleep with him because he’s visually intoxicating._ Unlike yesterday,  her ensemble was less casual, the elastic band of the high waisted skater skirt digging into her ribs, the white cami tucked in purposely coming undone for a more effortless look. Her honey blonde hair swished around her in waves she worked on for an hour,  achieving the ‘I didn’t try’ look, but actually trying really hard. The click-clack of her flip flops echoed through the empty halls, _I can’t believe I have summer courses._

Knocking on the heavy wooden door, his voice floated through the room, permitting her entrance. He was seated at a thick wooden desk, mahogany to be exact. The afternoon sunlight fluttering through closed shades, no lights flickering about besides the lamp to his right. He cast a quick look at her, metal framed spectacles perched on his perfectly pointed nose, black hair casually roused. He smiled slightly, the pen in his hand going still.

"Miss Price," he greeted, watching her shut the door behind her, "you’re early."  
“For once,” she shrugged, dropping her caramel satchel on the floor,  “I was in the library studying until I couldn’t handle anymore John Keats.”  
“Reading ahead,” he nodded towards the worn leather couch.  
Carefully, she sat back, legs crossed right over left, “there was only so much Marie de France I could stomach.”

He smiled, focusing on the paper in front of him once more. She watched him carefully, noting his smart apparel. Navy trousers that clung to his thighs, a crisp white button down undone at the top and rolled to the elbows  Her stomach flopped, a deep feeling of arousal settling in the pit of her stomach. _No man possibly looks that good at 42,_ she sighed, readjusting her skirt as she willed away the pressure between her legs.

"Why English?" He asked, still focused on his paper.   
“Because my parents didn’t understand Art History,” she shrugged.   
“And you do?” He almost teased, dripping the pen and pushing his chair back.  
“Better than I understand Medieval Romance,” she smiled, watching him as he crossed the room.  
He nodded,  “cheeky. Stand.”

Willingly, she stood before him, her heart racing as he closed the distance between them. He circled her slowly, eyes roaming her body. He’d done this before, affairs with his students. None as eager or as unknowing as Lexy Price, but all in the same, he would think. He admired her for the confidence in her actions; opinionated and aloof at the same time. She was attractive, visually satisfying for someone of such young age. Did he ever feel like he used his position to his benefit? No. Propositioning your professor doesn’t guarantee a passing mark. _Nothing does_.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, a bored tone hinting in her voice.  
He grinned, twiddling a piece of her hair between his index and thumb, “do you think it would be fair if I passed you strictly based on your sexual knowledge?”  
She laughed slightly, fanning away his fingers from her hair, “my sexual knowledge is much broader than my knowledge in mandatory courses.”  
"And to think," he started, standing behind her, "I almost wouldn’t have the pleasure of your acquaintance if it weren’t mandatory," he huskily continued in her ear, his fingers slowly sliding down the silver zipper to her skirt. 

She shivered slightly as the cool air hit her exposed legs, her skirt settling at her ankles, spilled about the office floor. Her camisole ended above her belly button, leaving her plain red cotton hiphuggers exposed. Broad hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him, his grip strong and warm at the same time. Her gaze was glued to his face, his crystal blue eyes traveling the curves of her exposed flesh; thin waist, wide hips, and thighs that he wouldn’t mind wrapped around his head. 

"I know that face," she said quietly, a smug look spread across her plush lips.  
"What face?" He questioned, one long finger tracing the dangling pendant from her belly button.  
"That’s the face I make when you give a lecture and all I can think of is what you’d look like naked," her casualty was almost frightening.  
He laughed, a deep noise that rumbled in his chest and escaped his thin lips, “you’re very good at this, you know.”  
"At what?"  
"Seduction," he replied, thumbing the hem of her top.  
"Do you feel seduced?" She hoped he wasn’t teasing her.

He grinned, all teeth and pink lips, before he pulled her top over her head, letting it fall to the floor beside her discarded and forgotten skirt. To his surprise, she had worn a bra as well. Satin and red, with a bow at the center. His finger traced the space between her breast, lingering above the tiny accent before sliding down her stomach, soft and tanned, and settling on her hip. His free hand drew up her back, his fingers deftly working the hooks to the fabric separating him from the peaks he had nearly dreamed about the night before. His jaw clenched as the soft material slid down her toned arms, falling to the floor between them. 

"Are you just going to stare?" She asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.  
He licked his lips, turning away momentarily, before handing her a worn book, “page 183, recite it for me.”  
"What?" She almost spat, "Is this a joke?"

He sat down on the leather couch, his arousal tugging at the material of her trousers. With his legs spread in front of him, he watched her as she stood in her spot, dumbstruck and almost irritated by him. The grin never leaving his face, he drummed his long fingers on his muscular thigh, hinting impatience. She rolled her eyes, flipping through the pages and sighing in frustration.

"Unfelt, unheard, unseen, I’ve left my little queen," she started, glancing up at him, "her languid arms in silver slumber lying. Ah, through their nestling touch, who," she paused, her eyes watching his, "who could tell how much there is for madness, cruel, or complying?"  
"A little more enthusiasm," he said quietly.  
"Those faery lids how sleek, those lips how moist, they speak," she sighed, watching as his chest rose and fell, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, "in ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds into my fancy’s ear," taking a step closer, he sat up, "melting a burden dear, how love doth know no fulness, and no bounds."

She put the tattered book down beside him, standing between his spread legs. He watched her languid movements, the way her hair fell about her tanned skin as she propped a leg on either side of him, settling on his lap. She hummed contently as she slowly worked the buttons of his shirt, looking at him through fluttered lashes.   
  
"True, tender monitors I bend unto your laws," she spoke from memory, her voice soft as she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, her cool fingers coming in contact with his warm skin, "the sweetest day for dalliance was born," she murmured, rocking her hips against his, her lips leaving kisses down his neck and across his chest, "so, without more ado," she continued, manicured fingers unclasping his trousers, "I’ll feel my heaven anew," she tried hiding the grin that caught her lips, the feel of him between her legs slowly starting to drive her wild, "for all the blushing of the hasty morn," she whispered against his lips, the tip of her nose brushing his face.

Wordlessly, his arms circled her waist, pushing her bare chest flush against his. She gasped in surprise, his lips capturing hers in a fervent kiss; all lips and tongue and teeth. The grip on her hips was strong, holding her in place as she rocked against his erection, eliciting a groan from the back of his throat.  
His fingers pressed into the flesh of her bum, sliding beneath the barely there material of her panties and earning a thrust of his hips. She pulled away momentarily, gasping for air as his teeth attacked the smooth column of her throat, biting and sucking and driving her mad.

"I thought you said you weren’t familiar with mandatory courses," he rasped in her ear, setting her back on the cold leather couch.

"I said I was studying beforehand," she answered breathlessly, pawing at his trousers and pants.

He shook his head in delight, pinning her arms above her head as he set to worshiping her body, one ample breast at a time. She arched against his mouth, his teeth grazing the hardened peaks of her breast, the rosy skin contrasting with the flush of her tanned flesh. Her body frantically moved beneath his, yearning for some form of friction. _Who knew reciting poetry could be so arousing?_ Biting a nipple between his teeth lightly, she yelped, a mix of arousal and discomfort, her hands fighting his grip.

"Please," she urged, one free hand pushing at his shoulder, "we can play later."

"Didn’t realize you want to graduate with honors," he teased, watching her as she handlessly shimmed out of her panties

"Who said," she sighed, his lips leaving wet kisses down her inner thighs, "this was just about graduating?"

He laughed, shaking his head as he stood to remove his trousers. She watched him, body bare propped up on her elbows; lips swollen from kissing, skin flushed from arousal. He may have done this before but she was intoxicating, addicting, almost. Her grin faltered when the tent in his pants was released; _holy crap._ He chuckled at her expression, silencing her worries with a searing kiss that nearly knocked the wind out of her. The way he stood before her, digging in his pocket for the plastic wrapper somehow turned her on. This hunk of a man, _professor_ , stood before her, naked, _like many of my daydreams_ , waiting to do what she’d till now imagined really only happened in the movies.

He sat back, watching her as she got to her knees, situating a leg on either side of him once more, slowly lowering herself on to his glorious length, hands on his shoulders. Perfectly manicured nails dug into his pale skin, eyes closed, lips parted, and head thrown back as she fully took him within her, sighing with pleasure as she slowly rocked on his lap. His jaw was clenched, brows knitted, watching her every expression; the way her chest slowly rose and fell as she moved up and down, creating a rhythm that suited her perfectly. His fingers gripped the supple flesh of her thighs, meeting her thrusts with his own, his breathing speeding up.

"Relax," she murmured in his ear, arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed down his neck, their thrusts going from slow to fast, fast to slow, skin clapping against skin. He groaned into her hair, almost inaudibly, as his body relaxed beneath hers, his thrusts coming harder, _faster_ , slamming her hips down onto his in frantic need. She moaned loudly, her lips finding his and swallowing her noise. A hand on the back of her neck held her lips in place, his grip gentle yet possessive, demanding yet lenient. Tugging the blonde strands _just_ hard enough to cause her to shiver in delight, he exposed her neck to his lips, kissing his way down her chest, across her lush breast, goosebumps on her thighs rising with every bite.

"Professor," she moaned, "I - I,"

"Richard," he corrected her, his voice coarse.

“ _Richard_ ,” she almost purred, the twinkle in her eyes obvious, “Make me come,” she enunciated.

"Anything for you, Miss Price," he replied, biting down on her nipple once more.

"Le - Lexy."

He grinned wickedly, his hands back to gripping her hips, slamming her down faster, _harder_ , erratically, until he had her nearly screaming his name. Her orgasm engulfed her quickly and all at once, the length of him still hitting that sweet spot as she came undone in his grip. Her body stilling, bliss flowing through every pore of her body as she came, his name escaping her breathless lips over and over. He followed behind her after a few more fitful thrusts, the quiet moaning of her name escaping his mouth ringing in her ears as she slowly came down from her high. His head was thrown back against the now sticking leather couch, his lips parted, slow pants escaping his throat. She laughed breathlessly, their pants coming in sync, her head on his shoulder as his grip loosened, drawing random patterns into her sweat slicked skin.

_Best summer course ever,_ she snickered quietly, feeling him relax.


End file.
